Araluen's Finest
by Willow Battlegale
Summary: New country, new people, new title, no evil twin: Halt's life changes drastically when he escapes Hibernia. But he soon learns being apprenticed to the grim Ranger William requires him to work with his newest enemy: Crowley.  Pre-series
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I'm not sure how to do this… It's soooo much easier to write for after the series ends, because you don't have to worry about radical changes. So, forgive my problems as I try to make things fun and still stick to the things hinted at in the series.**

**I've always liked Halt better than any other character (though I daresay I'm turning into a Gilan-lover after reading Dodo.123's work, even though he's a blonde *ignores fact that I'm a blonde, albeit my hair being a dark ash blonde that looks like a mousy brown*)**

**I give you… HALT AS AN APPRENTICE! (with a side of Crowley)**

**x-x-x-x**

I'd always loved Hibernia. It was my home. But when I left that day a whole week previously, I left my whole life and now I had to get over it or suffer the consequences.

Now I was wandering a foreign country, Araluen, with nothing but the clothes on my back and one silver coin. I'd worked under a hard sea captain to earn my keep on his ship while it crossed the sea from Hibernia to Araluen.

"Come on, Halt, you never wanted to be King anyways." I muttered. I was in the peculiar habit of talking to myself. But I still couldn't shake the feeling I'd been cheated of my birthright and life.

I was trudging up the hill and thinking of my little sister, Caitlyn, when I heard a woman screaming. The sound led me into a small wooded area where a group of men armed with daggers surrounding a carriage. There were two footmen and the driver, but they were not fighting men.

The source of the screaming was a noblewoman with way too much face-paint, but it was her servant that made me stop and stare instead of leaving them. She was standing between her mistress and the bandits, utterly silent and composed.

The leader of the bandits—the best armed, with a leather vest to protect from minor blows—waved his knife under the girl's nose. "Stand down, miss. We just want yer money."

One of the men sniggered. "Fo' now." He said.

"Okay, that's more than enough." I said, stepping into the clearing. "Let them go."

All of the people involved stared at me—except for the girl, who I now could see was my age and extremely pretty. (What was the reward for saving a damsel in distress these days?) She dove for the leader, knocking him right off his feet and into the leaves below. He was stunned by the fall, and she managed to pry his hands away from the weapon.

Breathing heavily, she stood over him.

Showing a total lack of training, they all rushed to help their leader up instead of dispatching the girl. I rushed over to the women. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine, thanks to you." The noblewoman gushed, clinging to me. Ew, even with face-paints I could tell she was old enough to be my—never mind. The thought was too painful.

I looked over her shoulder at the girl, who rolled her eyes. _Don't bother_, the look said. _She'll never admit _I_ saved her._

I grabbed one of the bandits by the collar and heaved him to his feet, relieving him of his knife as I did.

"Jus' who d'ya think ya are—"

He fell silent when I rammed his head into the side of the carriage. "Where'd you learn to use weapons?" I asked the girl as his comrades circled us.

She shrugged, stabbing randomly into the eight or so bandits. "I didn't. I'm improvising."

"So you have no idea what you're doing?" I asked incredulously. "How did you…"

The girl shrugged once again as I dispatched the leader of the bandits—he fell lifeless to the ground. The first person I'd ever killed.

And, I reflected as another man took his place, likely not the last.

"I'm Pauline, by the way."

"Halt." I replied, grinning at her.

Her fighting faltered. "Why should I stop—wait, you mean your name is Halt?"

"Yes. Halt O'Carrick."

"It's weird, if you don't mind me saying."

"It's better than Ferris."

"Ferris?"

"My brother."

The last man fell. I'd gotten six of them, but the two who'd gotten too close to Pauline's mistress were clutching wounds as they stumbled away.

I moved to pursue them, but before I could a man literally stepped out of a tree, pulling back a cowled hood.

"Stop right there." He said, unnecessarily. The remaining three froze in their places, looking like they'd seen a ghost.

Which, as far as I could tell, they had.

"Good morning, sir." Pauline said calmly. "Always a good entrance."

The man didn't smile. "Hmm. An interesting outcome, don't you think, Crowley?" He asked the tree beside him.

A guy my age stepped away from the tree. "If you say so, father. Morning, Pauline!"

He sounded suspiciously cheerful as he greeted her. Looked like my damsel in distress was already taken, by what appeared to be—surely not—a sorcerer.

"Good morning, Crowley." She replied, cool as ever.

Maybe she wasn't taken.

Crowley, for his part, was glaring at me resentfully. I got the feeling he hated me even though we'd only just met.

"Forgive my asking, but who the devil are you all?"

"I'm Pauline, as I said. This is my mother Lady Lindsey, my father's old friend Ranger William, and his son Crowley."

Mother? I wasn't expecting that. Pauline's dress was simple—elegant, but simple—and more like that of a servant than a Lady.

"Halt O'Carrick, what brings you to Araluen?"

I turned my attention back to Ranger—Ranger, why did that title sound familiar…?—William as he spoke.

"Just passing through."

"Where's your family?" Ranger William asked. "Why aren't they with you?"

I weighed the options of telling them who exactly I was, but it was likely they'd want to contact Ferris or, if I told them, restore me to my place as heir to the throne. My parents didn't want me, and they'd be even more unhappy if I took Ferris from them with the help of foreign troops. "They're in Hibernia. I left home."

"Are you in need of employment, Halt?"

I did need a source of income if I was going to survive. "Yes, sir." I said politely.

"Would you like to be a Ranger?"

What the devil was a Ranger? Surely I'd heard the name in one of my lessons about—oh! He was referring to the Araluen spies that used bows and could turn invisible using special cloaks.

Now the question was, did I want to _be_ a Ranger?

I didn't have much of a choice.

"Yes, sir."

**Fwah! (That's like tada, my bestie Peridot says it all the time and I wanted to try it out. It just doesn't work for me…) There we go, my first chapter. What do you think? Review. Now. That's an order.**

**PS Visit Theodora Helena Miller's RA story, because she gave me all sorts of recommendations for this.**

**PPS If you read my profile, please note that I am not crazy, I am simply in character.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reviewing, Dodo.123! *glares at rest of hypothetical and possibly nonexistent readers* Hint, hint, review.**

**Sorry about the family angst from Halt. Just keeping it real.**

**Read and review.**

The minute Ranger William left the cabin to take care of the horses, I spun on Crowley. "What is your problem?"

"You think you're so great, don't you, Halt? You waltz right in and stop a bunch of half-drunk bandits with the help of a _girl_ and suddenly you're a hero." He spat bitterly.

"That's your problem?" I asked. "You're _jealous_? That's the most selfish and ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Get over yourself. I've got no money, no parents, no home, no friends, nothing. You've got your father, you've got Pauline, you've got tons of money judging by your clothes, and you're all cosy in a nice warm cabin."

"You have no idea what my life is like!"

It was like someone had pulled the vial out of the bottled up anger I'd had stored away for years. "Yeah, and _you_ have no idea what _my_ life is like." I retorted, jumping to my feet.

He shoved me backwards. I shoved him, and then he swung at me. I barely ducked in time to avoid the blow. I grabbed him around the waist and tried to slam into the wall, but he dug his elbow into my back.

My fingers found his neck and tightened. His own fingers scrabbled against mine, peeling them back and threatening to break one.

As I lost my grip, he punched me in the stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs. Ow. My knee came up automatically, but before I could knee him in the groin (enemy or not, I would feel bad for him if I did), someone grabbed me by the collar and pulled us apart.

"I leave you two alone for one minute and you get into a fight? Crowley, I expected better of you. Halt, keep in mind that I will not put up with further fighting. As it is, I want you and Crowley to shake hands and apologize."

I glared at Crowley, and he met my gaze with more hatred than I could muster, even with my mutinous thoughts towards everyone in the room.

He shook my hand, squeezing it so tightly I began to wonder if he would actually break my hand. Probably. I, for one, met him with equal force.

"Sorry, sir. It won't happen again." I said, forcing an apologetic and thoroughly insincere smile.

"_Crowley_." Ranger William snapped. "Stop with this behaviour."

He met my eyes again, and for a moment I wondered if the momentary darkness in them was sincerity. But his voice was stiff and angry as he said, "Sorry, Halt."

Okay, definitely not sincerity.

x-x-x-x

"Wake up." Crowley said, and I opened my eyes to see him standing over me wearing a cloak exactly like his father's. He must have been wearing it yesterday, but I had been too busy wondering what he had stuck up his—what his problem was to notice.

He looked to be in a better mood today, and I wondered if maybe—just maybe—we could stop hating each other. I didn't actually hate _him_, I was mad at the world.

"Wha's going on?"

"I'm getting assigned a mentor, and so is Pauline. Father says you have to come, and meet the Ranger Corps Commandant."

I sighed and got out of bed, reluctant to leave the warmth.

"Oh, he said to give you this." He handed me a folded up cloak. My stomach growled. "Don't worry. We'll be eating breakfast before they get here. Ever had coffee, Halt?"

"No…"

Crowley suppressed a grin, but then it broke through. "Oh, you will have to be trained up. No Ranger can go about not being addicted to the stuff." He called the last over his shoulder as he left.

Admittedly rather confused by this new side of Crowley, I unfolded the cloak and held it up. It was mottled with greens, greys, browns, and some colours in between. That explained why they could disappear…

When I'd gotten dressed in the rather drab clothing at the foot of my bed (folded exactly like the cloak—Crowley's handiwork?), I followed a strangely bitter smell into the kitchen.

William was… cooking? I'd never have expected him to be able to cook; it was girl's job, wasn't it? Whatever was in the pan, it was bland enough for the steaming black liquid's scent to drown out.

"Here you go, Halt." Crowley said, handing me a mug. He perched on the counter, only for his father to push him off.

I was kind of uncomfortable, being watched so closely by the pair. Call me paranoid, but I sniffed it. After your brother repeatedly tries to poison you, you start distrusting everyone. And besides, Crowley had a shifty look about him.

"I didn't poison it." Crowley rolled his eyes and poured out his own coffee. He drank the whole cup within seconds. "See?"

Hesitantly, I sipped at it. I quickly spat it out.

"Bleh! It's bitter."

They stared at me. Crowley looked flabbergasted. "That's the _point_. How can you not like coffee? You wasted it on the floor!" He pointed at the small splatter of liquid.

"Don't you have any sugar?" I asked.

Still giving me suspicious looks every few seconds, Crowley got out a jar of honey. I spooned some out and stirred it into the drink.

This time, I was able to appreciate the bitter notes to the drink as well as the sweet, and the real flavour of the stuff. It was strong and warm and smelled absolutely amazing. And believe me, the smell was _nothing_ compared to the taste. I'd had the finest wines money can buy and this trumped every single one of them. "Mmm."

"How can you stand by and watch this, Father? He's ruining _coffee_!"

"Calm down, Crowley, we'll convert him. But for now, eat this oatmeal as fast as you can."

I took the bowl and shovelled spoonfuls into my mouth. It scorched my throat on the way down, but my throat was nice and numb from the hot coffee doing that just seconds previously.

Just as I scraped the last bits of oats out of the bowl, I heard carriage wheels and hooves on soft forest ground.

"Pauline, stop that. It's unladylike to fidget." Lindsey said, her voice faint from distance.

Crowley fixed his light brown hair quickly. For Pauline or the Commandant and his mentor, I wondered…

"It goes without saying that you two must not fight or speak out of turn during this meeting. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." We chorused, unusually still and silent. I glanced at him yet again, hoping he wasn't anything more than Pauline's father's friend's son. He looked at me at the same time. It seemed he was thinking along the same lines. _No fighting_, I reminded myself. _No fighting._

**If I get more reviews, I'll keep working, but I **_**do**_** have a manuscript to finish/edit. Fun stuff can't come first unless I'm making someone happy by doing so, because then I have an excuse to offer my co-writer as to why I'm not working nose-to-the-grindstone to finish the ending and edit the rest of the chapters. **

**And since her dragon has a thing for eating elves like me… Tell me what you think in a review! **

**Blue link, can't miss it, click it. **

**Or else I will send the griffins with purple collars after you. They were denied the chance to hound my birthday party invitees since they all RSVPed within 12 hours, so they're bored and hungry.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oops, time jump between chapters. They sent the carriage on its way to Redmont with four prisoners (three the conscious ones and one whose head had become very friendly with the carriage) and rode to the cabin, where Halt was given a rundown of what a Ranger was. Voila.**

**Sorry it's taken so long… I've been super busy. The manuscript is done! Well, it has a complete plot. I'm just taking it apart, editing the heck out of it, and putting it back together now.**

**I'm done babbling, so here's the new chapter:**

Two Rangers were followed into the cabin by Lindsey, Pauline, and a young man with carrot-orange hair.

"Good morning, Halt." Pauline said politely, with the slightest grin on her face as her eyes flickered between me and Crowley. "Good morning, Crowley."

"Good morning, Pauline." Crowley replied happily.

I simply raised an eyebrow—I'd spent _years_ learning how to do that—and fought with a huge grin. "Hey, Pauline." I said easily, leaning back in my chair.

"Shh." William snapped.

The Ranger Corps Commandant, a man with hair that had been dyed brown (presumably to cover greys) but was betrayed by the serious thinning, waved it away. I put him at about forty, forty-five. "Relax, Will, they're allowed to socialize."

"Being a Ranger—and a courier, for that matter—is not about _socializing_. They have to know when to keep their mouths shut and listen versus when to speak out. If you weren't too busy playing up the local ladies, maybe you would know that."

"Know your place, William!" The Commandant snapped. "I am your superior and I demand you show me some level of respect."

"I'll show you respect when you've earned it, Berrigan."

William and Berrigan were standing only a few inches from each other and glaring at one another with emotion that trumped even the weight of Crowley's hatred.

"Ahem." Pauline said quietly, managing to do so politely. They looked around as if just remembering there were other people watching their argument.

Berrigan turned to face us, looking embarrassed under his brown beard. "Right. Crowley, this is Ranger Gaspar, your mentor."

Ranger Gaspar had been a silent shadow for the beginning of the rather heated conversation, but I turned my attention to him as the newcomer stepped out of the shadow and pulled back his hood. He looked different from anyone I'd ever seen before, bald with skin the colour of that coffee stuff and eyes darker than charcoal.

"I'm the Ranger of Gorlan Fief." Gaspar explained. "You'll always be in a little over a day's riding distance from your father."

"I'll be training Alyss in Castle Redmont," The young man—who I assumed was to be Pauline's mentor—said, "So on your holidays the three of you can socialize without impeding your training."

_Fat chance of that_, I thought. The unspoken truce that had sprung up between Crowley and I in the excitement of that morning had quickly reverted to the icy mutual dislike now that Pauline was there.

"When do I leave?" Crowley asked, glancing over at Pauline.

Gaspar pretended to check the time. "Two minutes ago, if you can make it."


End file.
